Tomorrow’s Sorrows
by cloudychelc
Summary: He had a loving wife at home and yet, why was he on another woman? (No happy ending with this one, pure angst and cheating.)


I tried something different with this one. There isn't too much dialogue and all it really is...well, let's just see.

I'm not trying to normalize cheating. Cheating is horrible and I've seen it happen to my close friends. Cheaters never prosper and this will not have a happy ending, so I'm sorry if you wanted things to turn out well. I will have another one out that's much nicer, I promise.

* * *

The first time he had left her, it was in a blind rage, his hair a continuous blur of wine and crimson, trying to decipher the emotions that sped around him. A consuming fire in his body as he argued against her for something petty, as most married couples do as they start out a new chapter in life. Truthfully, he couldn't quite remember what he was arguing for with each insult, slew with minuscule things he had grown to love. What he had been saying was hardly anything meant to be taken with a grain of salt and yet the backing frustration is what made it seem to have any sort of gravitas. The insults she had thrown back at him were of equal measure, with small things that had no purpose but rather just a response to his words. Despite this, he found himself walking away, mind split in confusion and rage, muttering frustrations with each step, She called his name, his proper name, as he continued on the pavement, hands stuffed in pockets and body on fire. He could have turned around, right then and there. He could have turned as she began to weep. He could have told her how sorry he was for being a fool and everything was alright. But no. No. He needed something to cool him down. Unfortunately, the idea of it being a something turned into a someone.

It only took himself a couple of paces around the park before he found himself at her door. Not his beloved, but rather, his previous. Her blonde hair in a fluffed mess, body covered with just a velvet dressing gown, Hilda opened the door expecting something of importance. It was Alfendi after all. He would never come to her doorstep without need, as their relationship was meant to be a professional one, now that their labels had been stripped away. His name barely slipped out of her soft lips before he reacted, pushing himself towards her in a rush. In any case, it would be the obvious thing to push him away and slap him to his senses. Remind him that he had a loving wife at home that needed someone to hold, someone to be with her in the expanse of their home. She was supposed to offer him the door.

But she didn't. She didn't stop his hands, stroking her sides and burying themselves in her hair. She didn't stop his advances, didn't stop the want that was straining from his trousers. Her mouth responded to his in fervor, as if she was desiring him to stray away from his love. She allowed him to use her, to allow his whole to feel. Nonetheless, his logical side was weighed away by his emotions. He shut the door behind him and allowed his body to feel. He wanted to push away the thinking that he was so known for, those thoughts of his beloved and to just force himself to feel. For the fire to be quelled, the frustration to push itself out. It didn't take him long to slip the condom and continue his endeavors as if nothing in the world could stop him. His grunts and her moans filled the room, but inside, it was still empty.

Placid, with each time he tried to retain control, Potty forced him back down. Placid couldn't deny that it felt good, as he shared this body with the man responsible for the actions, but it didn't stop him from being frustrated for allowing it to occur. The emptiness came from him and he knew that Potty would follow in suit after the deed.

Potty allowed the idea of inhibitions to come first. Why? Was it because his wife was the sweetest individual he could ever meet? Fiery spirit in the Mystery Room and against all suspects, yet she was still a fragile glass and to him, she was still the future he was to have. She wasn't someone he could throw caution in the wind with. Yet, with Hilda, she was wild. Wilder than his imagination, something that Potty has enjoyed long ago. It was the wild side that he wanted before he would kiss it goodbye. But technically, he should have kissed it goodbye a long time ago when he said, 'I do.'

He woke up the next morning, the sticky dew of the night reminding him of his sins. Potty didn't want to say how uncomfortable he felt, the regret piling up upon his conscience. Placid was fuming, but Potty wouldn't let him continue, as he merely brought to his attention that Placid didn't quite stop him either. Hilda was already up, as the side of the bed was an empty cavity, that should have had the imprint of his wife, not a woman of years ago.

Would it be terrible for him to say that it felt good?

To say that it felt good to have another woman beneath him, one that could satisfy him in ways that his wife could never quite bring herself to do?

Nonetheless, he allowed himself to pull his clothes on and made his way to the kitchen. A cup of tea was waiting for him, as it used to be when he was with her. He couldn't even bring himself to speak, slipping on his coat and sitting down on a stool across from Hilda. She respected his desire for silence and motioned for him to drink the cup as she sipped from hers. It was that tranquility that brought him distress. It should be chaos. Why wasn't she kicking him out? Why was she enabling this? Shouldn't something be going on, as he took sips of his cuppa? Something should be yelling at him, angry at the desires he had satiated.

He finished his cuppa with nothing left to say, knowing that when he finished it, the cuppa meant that there was no going back. He accepted it, signaling to her that everything was alright between them and more could come. He was ready to leave when she tapped her nails onto the granite. It wasn't over.

"She called this morning, you know. I thought the ring would have woken you, but you were passed out. She asked if you were here." A pin could have dropped. He looked up to her inquisitively. Hilda could have very well destroyed his marriage with a couple of words, could have taken revenge on what Placid's emergence stole from her. "Of course, under the idea that you may have crashed here. Told me I wasn't the only person she called."

"And what did you say?" His legs felt weak, his mouth dry. Was this the chaos that was to stop the tranquility?

"I told her I didn't know. Told her that you probably were at a hotel room for the night."

He exhaled a breath he was subconsciously holding and allowed himself to make his exit.

"You're welcome, by the way." She remarked, as if she deserved some sort of thanks. He stood by the opened door for the briefest of moments but chose to ignore her words. Instead, he walked away and told himself it would be the last time. The last time he would see the mahogany door of Hilda Pertinax under the pretense of this. The last time he would look at her and think of the thoughts bubbling in his mind. That's what he told himself as he walked the streets back to the flat he shared with his darling.

But he came back.

He came back each and every time he could, his legs making their way to the flat or to her office without caution for a whole month. By day, he could claim that he was Lucy Baker's loving and doting husband. By whatever time he could allow, he could claim that he was under Hilda Pertinax's finger, even if he wasn't quite proud of it. It wasn't intentional, he promised himself, that he was just a man and the whims were just as is. It wasn't like he was unfaithful to her. He still spent all of his nights with Lucy, just coming in the afternoon to Hilda's nearby apartment for lunch or when he was really desperate, in her office, behind the locked door.

He wondered if Lucy could smell the perfume on his coats when he came back from his lunch break quickie, when he would tell her that he was "going to buy them lunch" and would "be right back" for her. Or if she could feel that he was with another woman when she hugged him, kissed him, or even when she just merely laid with him. Or if she wasn't saying anything because she didn't want to ruin what they had, or rather, what he had with Hilda. He couldn't tell, she would never tell.

But this consistency of returning to a previous lover would crumble with two mere words from his wife.

"I'm pregnant." Lucy blurted out, one night as they were lying in bed. He took a moment to recall the time where they had their own moment of conscupience. Some time recently, but even his mind couldn't rack up a date. It was beginning to blur for Alfendi, truth be told. He couldn't remember when was the last time he had made love to her, all due to the fact his time was spent with Hilda. Lucy fingers were idling absentmindedly, specifically around her ring. "With twins."

Alfendi looked up from his literary book, considering the idea that his ears were deceiving him. But no, she had said it, as clear as can be. He wanted to say that was great news, to say that it was absolutely wonderful that she was going to be a mother of two beautiful children. His children. He trained his face to show excitement, but his heart was brewing. What he had been doing behind her back was brewing in his mind. "That's...that's wonderful, Lucy. Do we know the gender of the children?"

"No, not yet. But soon." She continued to ramble on about how she had planned to tell him, but he seemed constantly busy and she wanted to wait until the time was right. However, he just hugged her and told her how happy and proud he was. "I've been told it might be difficult. Something about my body size and how anything can go wrong at that time. You'll be nearby if something goes wrong, right? Since Scotland Yard isn't too far."

It was as though she had little faith in him. Rightfully so, but he didn't comment about her tone. It made him briefly realize that he hadn't been paying attention, as looking at her stomach properly, it was obvious she was pregnant. Was he that enamored with what he was doing? "Yes, of course. Just call me and I will be there."

The doctor was right, as Alfendi watched, day by day, as she had complications with her pregnancy. The constant physical therapy as she got to her later months were often a worrisome concern. Despite this, he still came, after his time alone in the Mystery Room to his mistress. It wasn't really any personality's control, they both wanted it, even if neither truly wanted to take responsibility. After, he'd still come home to food and a smiling woman, who he would help create a nursery and a prosperous home with. If she suspected something, she never showed it. She would just give him a peck on the lips, explained the dinner for the night, and talk about her day, which was often filled with their own mysteries. In any case, he could have the best of both worlds. He could do as he desired. But those two worlds would be clashing, one way or another. He already felt dirty as it was. He didn't deserve anything.

After his shift at work, he went to Hilda's for the last time. Rather than to feel her under him, he needed to talk to her, like normal adults.

"I want to end this." Hilda raised an eyebrow. He didn't need to be an investigator to understand that it bothered her. Nostrils flaring, she kept herself in check — for the most part — as he explained himself.

"Now?" She asked, "I thought you were having fun." Her lips were in one of those tight lipped smiles. She wasn't happy with this. But she should have known this couldn't last forever, whether it be Lucy finding them out or one of them calling it quits.

"Not like this. I regret all of it." If he could wash his hands to cleanse him of all of the cheating, he would.

"That's not how it was last night, Al." She wasn't wrong, he had begged her to take him, to bring him to ecstasy.

"I mean it, Hilda." His hair, now a dark crimson, proved he was not present for games. Fists clenched, he glared at her, "I've been prolonging this for too long. It's no longer worth it. I'm sorry, but there's nothing more to say." There was a moment of silence, but she nodded. He turned on his heel and walked away, back to his own home.

A turn of the key and not even a single step into the doorway, he found his ears ringing from a call of pain from a voice he had grown to memorize all too well. His legs felt like lead with each step he took, his footprints creating burn marks into the carpet.

"Lucy?" He called, loudly as he could. His single steps increased in pace with each meter.

"Alfendi!" It wasn't long before he found himself in their bedroom, the situation becoming apparent to him: her water had broke. It was all too much of a blur, as Placid took control and carried her body to their car. The two personalities bickered, but both had a keen desire to get his love to her destination.

The ride to the hospital was brief, but it felt like an eternity. Her deep breaths beside him didn't replace the back his mind floated to how much he messed up. At the very least, he put an end to his endeavors.

Her groans and screams wouldn't leave his head, haunting him. He sat in the cold, white waiting room, hands trembling.

"First time father?" He looked up and found himself looking at another man, who had another little girl in his arms, sleeping soundly as she drooled on her shoulder. A curt nod from the Prof. "Yeah, I was in your position before. The doctors here are good people. Your wife is in safe hands."

He murmured a small thanks and then decided to ask, "Have you ever cheated on your wife before?" He regretted it a tad bit, as the man looked at him as though he was insane. But he could tell that the man held no malice towards the question.

"No. I haven't. I never had the need to." The man muttered, rocking the little girl in his arms gently, "But I have a friend who did."

"What did he do?" The Prof inquired, wringing his hands absentmindedly.

"His conscience was eating away at him, especially since he shared two kids with his wife. Eventually, he came clean. Told her the truth." The man sighed, "His wife requested for separation, told him that she needed some time to forgive him for what he had done."

"Did she?"

"She had religion backing up her decision. Even if it felt wrong, she went back to him. He realized what he could have lost and just never looked back to his mistress. He's still trying to make it up to her to this day, but you could tell, she doesn't look at him the same anymore." The man moved closer to the Prof, enough to a low whisper, "Listen. I'm guessing you're asking because you mucked your own relationship up. You should tell her. Whenever you plan to, it should be soon, since you're going to be a father."

"What if she leaves me?" Potty asked bitterly, digging his fingernails into his jeans.

"It's on you, it's what you should have expected as a consequence." The man responded, glancing up as the doctor called his surname. "You just have to at least try to make it right, that's what she needs. It's better for her to hear it from your mouth than anybody else's, you know?" The man stood, bringing the stroller he had with him and his daughter through the door, leaving him in his thoughts.

It didn't take long before he was called too. Hands still wringing absentmindedly, he followed the doctor to his wife's room. She was holding two children in her arms, wrapped in a swaddle of cloth. He moved anxiously towards them and found how much they looked alike to them, similar features and all. Even then, he felt as though he didn't deserve being the father of the children. Nonetheless, he held them as per Lucy's request and kept his mouth shut. For the time being.

When they were discharged from the hospital, he knew he had to tell her eventually. He waited a day before requesting her presence.

"Lucy, can we talk?"

"Aye. What about?" The way her voice seemed to tremble, perhaps she already knew what was to come.

Before he knew it, he began to explain everything that had occurred since that argument they had all those months ago. His mouth moved on it's own accord, with his eyes searching her face for some sort of reaction as he spoke. She had grown good at concealing her emotions in front of the suspects in the Mystery Room, as she didn't show any signs of cracking. He held his head low as he said, "Lucy...I'm so sorry."

It felt like an eternity as he waited for her to say anything, to do anything, just for him to see if everything was going to be okay or not.

"I know. It's okay. I forgive you." He raised his head slowly at that, looking into her eyes any sort of false hope that she should be extruding. But he truly found none. She had known all along, perhaps he had slipped up once?

"What?"

"I forgive you."

"No, no, that's not how it's supposed to go." He stammered, "You're supposed to send me away. Tell me you hate me. Tell me..." She only shook her head at that, eyes watering. Potty stayed silent, indignant at this information. Placid was already losing it himself. "Please. Tell me something, Lucy."

There was no throwing of shoes.

There was no fit from her.

There was no yelling, no physical injury to him.

There wasn't any consequence to him.

She merely stood there, allowing him to take her hands to beg for forgiveness.

But on her face, he could tell that he had done enough damage to destroy everything he built with her. That was enough consequence.

"I'm sorry. I know you were expecting something else, but I've had enough time to think about this. I forgive you."

"Lucy...no, you're supposed to..." Placid broke down, holding onto Lucy for support. She stood still, eyes downcast as she allowed the Prof to sob. Potty couldn't even help the breaking of the gates, with his own bravado staying still. She herself began crying as well, but it was silent.

"I blamed myself, you know?" She sniffled, tears streaming down her face. No, she shouldn't blame herself, it should be him. It was all his fault. "For the longest time, Prof. Always thought something was amiss with me. Trying to figure it out by doing all I can these past months."

"Lucy..." He said weakly, eyes looking to her.

"I'll do better Prof, I promise."

And that's when he realized how much she loved him, even through this trial and tribulation. The foundations of their relationship were saved by her love. Even if he didn't deserve it, not one bit.

"Lucy, no, it's all me." Potty forced himself in the front, "It's all my bloody fault! I shouldn't have. Placid was stopping me and yet I still...I still did it. I still came back, dragging our feet over..."

"But I still enabled him." Placid added, mind distraught and confused at her response. He began rambling about how he never should have done it, how he would understand if she just chose to leave him and file for divorce.

"Alfendi." She never used his name that way, causing him to stop in his tracks, and look at him. "Just promise me, promise me for the love of everything we've experienced and gone through, you'll never do it again."

"Lucy..."

"Promise me." She demanded, holding his hands with surprising grip.

"I promise." Placid said first, then Potty with equal fervor. Lucy inhaled a sharp breath, closing her eyes for a moment and he could tell, everything in her was screaming too. There was no doubt of the thoughts to leave, but her love was too far.

The children began crying and Lucy let her hands fall away from his, walking away to soothe them. But who would soothe her? Certainly not him. He fell into the nearby couch and pulled on his hair, frustrated at himself and wished he could turn back time. But it wasn't like time machines existed in real life, only in shows.

They had another argument eventually. It was bound to happen. The same thing happened as the last, the insults were thrown and the Prof was about to walk out the door, again.

"Don't you dare walk out, Alfendi Layton, I know what you're going to do." He stopped, dead in his tracks, and saw her in the start of a cry, "You'll do it again."

He'll do it again.

He turned back on his heel and his anger washed away as she began to sob uncontrollably. He walked up to her and put tentative hands on her shoulders, feeling how much she trembled.

"Lucy, no, no, I'm not. I'm not leaving. Forget about it, forget about what I said. I'm sorry. Let's just eat, okay?" They managed to eat silently, with the children asleep in their room, but he knew, with what he had done, he scarred her for life. She now had a constant fear of losing him to his own inhibitions, where she couldn't satisfy him as much as she would like.

As time went on, she would always had to know where he was going, what time he would be back around, and even had to track him on his cell phone. Even if it seemed stupid, he knew he had to submit if it meant she would stay with him and give her peace of mind. When she was able to work along with him, it was a little easier to breathe, but still, with all things considered, he deserved it all.

It was the only regret he had in his life, ever. He spent ages trying to make it up to her, but to no true avail. As the man in the hospital had said in regards to his friend, Lucy would never look at him the same again, even if they continued as if nothing happened and they were supposedly in love as much as they were on their wedding night. To the outsider, their lives looked perfect. Nothing seemed to be amiss, as they looked and loved each their dotingly. Their two children were adorable as well, emphasizing the love they had for each other.

But he was the only one to know that it was anything but peaceful, as he burned in the fact that he couldn't do anything to change that.


End file.
